After 5 years the dreads come off in a fury of scissors and red wine. Only two bottles later and I am staring in the mirror contemplating vanity and a slew of history. Dreadlocks, in pop-culture are most closely associated with the Rastafari movement beginning in the 1930's in Jamaica and Bob Marley himself. They actually have lengthy accounts in different cultural groups throughout world history including ancient Egypt, Greece and India as far back as 2500 BCE with the Dreadlocked Vedic deity Shiva and his followers, from Christianity to Hinduism. Even King Tutankhamun's dreads are still intact to this day.
Old generation Rastafari people take non-violence, non-conformity, communalism and solidarity as a religious way of life. They believe that the late emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie I, later named Ras Tafari as the coming savior destined to lead the Rastasfari (hence the name) to freedom. The word "dreadlock" comes from the word "dread" or fear and horror. They were said to look “dreadful” while disregarding the general narcissism and vanity that infected conventional conservatism of the day and may still.
Somehow through the fashion police and modern day status symbols conjured by dreadlocks, us newbies have lost the true meaning in their representation. Seeing those who have dreads as herb smoking Reggae fanatics is a severe stereotype, albeit true in many cases.
Why me? Ever since a taste of freedom tickled my imagination, the lust for adventure began to cultivate in the folds of my training bra, not yet filled with the flesh of my innocent bosom. I felt a compelling urge to question why; to search for a light in the dark of a controlled suburban existence. My parents supported me unconditionally (and still do) in their hearts yet voiced (and still do) their fervent objections to my fast-paced, impulsive decisions. Still, out of respect, there was (is) no stopping me. Having the dreads in the first place meant for me a shunning of conformity and breaking down the stereotypes of beauty. We, as a western society place too much importance on physical appearance. We live futilely on the surface and miss the allegorical boat of life’s true meaning. 5 years is nothing in the complex yet insignificant history of human kind. But in these 5 years, I have in some small way begun to grow in my search. I do not consider myself to be Rastafari, as stated above, I do enjoy the casual glass (or bottle) of red wine from time to time. I do live in the present and although I tend to shy away from my privileged North American upbringing, I do not deny that I am a product of my surroundings. All the more reason to keep exploring, keep asking questions, keep learning and keep reflecting. Symbolically, the cutting of my dreadlocks signifies a new epoch of my life; an unmistakable feeling that has washed over me. This has not been a journey alone. Many people have influenced my life and thanks to those, I am beginning to see clearly now.
Old generation Rastafari people take non-violence, non-conformity, communalism and solidarity as a religious way of life. They believe that the late emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie I, later named Ras Tafari as the coming savior destined to lead the Rastasfari (hence the name) to freedom. The word "dreadlock" comes from the word "dread" or fear and horror. They were said to look “dreadful” while disregarding the general narcissism and vanity that infected conventional conservatism of the day and may still.
Somehow through the fashion police and modern day status symbols conjured by dreadlocks, us newbies have lost the true meaning in their representation. Seeing those who have dreads as herb smoking Reggae fanatics is a severe stereotype, albeit true in many cases.
Why me? Ever since a taste of freedom tickled my imagination, the lust for adventure began to cultivate in the folds of my training bra, not yet filled with the flesh of my innocent bosom. I felt a compelling urge to question why; to search for a light in the dark of a controlled suburban existence. My parents supported me unconditionally (and still do) in their hearts yet voiced (and still do) their fervent objections to my fast-paced, impulsive decisions. Still, out of respect, there was (is) no stopping me. Having the dreads in the first place meant for me a shunning of conformity and breaking down the stereotypes of beauty. We, as a western society place too much importance on physical appearance. We live futilely on the surface and miss the allegorical boat of life’s true meaning. 5 years is nothing in the complex yet insignificant history of human kind. But in these 5 years, I have in some small way begun to grow in my search. I do not consider myself to be Rastafari, as stated above, I do enjoy the casual glass (or bottle) of red wine from time to time. I do live in the present and although I tend to shy away from my privileged North American upbringing, I do not deny that I am a product of my surroundings. All the more reason to keep exploring, keep asking questions, keep learning and keep reflecting. Symbolically, the cutting of my dreadlocks signifies a new epoch of my life; an unmistakable feeling that has washed over me. This has not been a journey alone. Many people have influenced my life and thanks to those, I am beginning to see clearly now.
At least I am about 10 pounds lighter so I'll be able to climb stronger.
(This is my warrior making a joke)
